For We Have Fallen
by hunterofartemis080
Summary: Circe Carrow built herself up to spite the Slytherins she shunned. She had always been a fighter and, when the war came, Circe was ready. She just wasn't ready for what came after. Sirius/OC friendship, implied Sirius/Lupin, and OC/OC
1. A Family Curse

**A Family Curse**

Circe Carrow spotted his head of hair across the crowd of third years hurrying back into the castle for lunch after their first Care of Magical Creatures of the new year. The chill of the mid-winter gave them shared pink cheeks while the excitement of seeing each other again after winter holidays brought happy chatter. They, a gathering of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, spotted the green of her robes before they saw her face and parted around her, lowering their gaze.

Best stay out of a Slytherin's way, regardless of who they specifically were.

And if any of them had been brave enough to look at her face, they would have scurried back with whispers too. After all, all of Hogwarts knew of Circe Carrow, the shunned Slytherin. She had a rather lovely reputation.

As such, she drew his attention without trying to – his and his three insufferable friends. She watched them grab their wands as discretely as they could – which wasn't very, as two had their wands tucked behind their ears, another had it tucked into his sock, and the final kept it in his bag. It was as though they expected her to attempt to duel all four of them at once in the middle of a crowded entrance hall.

She liked a public fight, but she didn't like it that much.

Granted, she had been cornered and forced to duel three people two years previous for a few seconds before the then DADA professor had stepped in, so by now she was more than capable of taking even the four of them on, but even she wasn't so foolish as to do something like that right now.

She might have briefly considered it when she watched them pull out their wands, but she was clever enough not to.

"There's no need for that," she told them, stepping smoothly out of the way of an older Slytherin who'd been aiming to hit her shoulder as they shoved past her. "I simply wanted to offer my congratulations to Black." They all raised their eyebrows. "As the daughter of a man blasted from his own pure-blooded family tree, I salute you, Black."

"How'd you know?"

"I am still a Slytherin." She shrugged. "Just because they don't like me doesn't mean I don't hear things." She met the gaze of Mulciber from across the hall. He looked to be apart from the rest of his Slytherin gang, but she knew they weren't far behind.

Circe recognized the look in his eyes. She'd seen it constantly over the past five years.

"I'd recommend you duck."

The four boys didn't have much time to react to her warning before she'd drawn her wand and thrown a quick spell over the crowd. Mulciber was taller than the third years, so there was thankfully no danger of the curse hitting an innocent, though the children who realized what was happening screamed and rushed to leave the hall. She was quite pleased when the curse struck him directly in the chest, the magic taking Mulciber by his ankle and pulling him upside down. It hung him there for a few seconds before landing him – quite satisfyingly – on his head. Another flick of her wand had his wand flying out through the just closing main door.

"Merlin!" one of the boys – she couldn't be bothered to tell which one it was – cursed as the two quick spells went over their heads.

Circe knew she'd pay for cursing him, but, really, she didn't care. She'd been waiting for an opportunity to curse Mulciber for months now.

As quickly as she'd drawn it, Circe's wand was back where it should be, tucked into a strap around her forearm for easy access. "As I was saying," she continued as though nothing had just happened, though Lupin – one of Black's friends and Gryffindor Prefect – was clearly attempting to decide if he should punish her for what had just happened. "Congratulations, Black. I suspect you'd be welcome at my father's table whenever you wished, though I doubt you'll be wanting to leave Potter's hearthside anytime soon." She took a step back, nodding at the four of them, who were still crouched to the ground. "See you in Potions."

Circe walked away to grab her food, parting the crowd of terrified third years and leaving four wide-eyed boys in her wake.

"Merlin's beard," Potter whispered, giving her an impressed nod – that had nothing whatsoever to do with how her arse looked because after a display like that he wasn't even going to dare to think about that – as he stood. "She can duel." It was a fact they'd all known for a while through rumors but hadn't been able to witness like this in years.

"That was Mulciber," Lupin reminded him, glancing back to see the boy pulled standing by Wilkes, another Slytherin gang member. "That's not going to be good for her."

"I've never seen a curse like that."

Lupin shoved his shoulder. "That was dueling in the corridors. It was against the rules."

"Since when do you care about rule-breaking?" Pettigrew smirked.

"I'm a Prefect!" which earned him scoffs from Potter and Black, the latter going quiet.

"He was going to curse her first."

"How could you possibly know that?" After all, all four boys hadn't even had a chance to turn to look at Mulciber before Circe had made them duck and cursed him.

Black just shrugged. "Slytherin."

Pettigrew slipped his hands into his pockets. "Don't let her hear you say that. You might get the same treatment."

Black was still looking where Circe Carrow had vanished, her ginger hair blending into the steady stream into and out of the Great Hall. "I think she agrees."

+CC+

Where a normal student would have been worried about walking late into double Potions with Slughorn, Circe Carrow approached it as she did everything else – hardened shoulders, a flip of the hair, a wand always within grasp, and a smile that terrified even some seventh years.

Especially after what had happened with Mulciber before lunch.

She tried not to make a habit of being late to her classes, but that day she'd decided it was more important to stop Mulciber or any of his gang from having the chance to claim a seat next to her. They'd done it before, not that they'd been able to do anything to a member of the Slug Club in the Slug himself's class.

A prized member, specifically. A fact proven when, upon entering late, he grinned to see her. "Circe!" The entire class, a mixture of Slytherin and Gryffindor, turned at the call. "I was wondering where you'd slithered off to."

Circe smiled easily. Made it nice and warm for her head of house. "Apologies, sir. I'm afraid I got distracted with that book you lent to me before the holidays."

He waved a hand. "No worries, my girl, no worries." She came to a stop at his desk. "And, please, take your regular seat." He gave her a hearty wink.

"Thank you, sir." She let her smile grow as she moved back to the extra table near the door that she'd long ago claimed as her own.

Slughorn had discovered quite near the beginning of her career at Hogwarts that Circe possessed 'no talent for the distinct and delicate art of potion making'. He still spent the first three years attempting to make her participate, but every potion she made ended in disaster and someone – not always her – always ended up sent to the hospital wing. The fact that disaster followed her potion making attempts made it much easier for Slughorn to admit that she just didn't have the gift.

Potions and her didn't mix.

As such, she was permitted to sit in the back of the room, alone, and do whatever she wanted during the classes. They'd agreed she'd write him a weekly essay about whatever potions the rest of the class had been concocting to ensure that she would actually pass her OWLs when the time came. He could fudge her grades all he liked when he was the only one grading the assignments, but he only had so much sway over the OWL examiners – a fact he'd admitted, privately, to her himself.

This was the main benefit of having impressed him with her dueling the first month of first year, when he'd walked in on her attempting – and nearly succeeding – to take down two Slytherin third years. All she had to do in return was attend his little Slug Club gatherings. They were tolerable enough when she was permitted to stay by his side the entire night, which she almost always was.

No Slytherin was foolish enough to try anything on her when a professor, particularly one who quite liked her, was nearby.

Granted, most Slytherins weren't foolish enough to try anything on her at any time because of her well-publicized willingness to curse literally anyone who got in her way. But it was easier when Slughorn had an arm around your shoulder.

Circe had just cast a look at one of the Gryffindor's textbooks as she passed to see what the rest of the class was working on when she felt a piece of paper hit her side and land – thanks to some spell work – in her hand. She immediately moved towards her wand – she hadn't had it ready, hadn't thought Mulciber was so foolish – but Potter's frantic head-shaking caught her eye.

This wasn't someone's attempt to incite a mid-class duel.

She waited until she was sitting at her desk and Slughorn had looked away to open the note. Thankfully, it was signed, as Circe had no idea who owned the handwriting, though she did think it was rather dreadful.

_Which curse did you use on Mulciber? – Potter_

Circe looked in the direction of the quartet of Gryffindors, the boy in question sitting facing her next to Pettigrew. He was doing what she supposed was his best attempt at 'puppy-dog' face and Circe was tempted to curse him just to knock it off. Instead, she settled for flipping him off, an action which earned her a sneer from two other Slytherin girls – Malfoy and Rowle – who happened to spot her.

She wondered if they'd heard what had happened to Mulciber, or if the gang had decided to keep the embarrassment secret from their fawning female counterparts.

Potter looked highly offended by her reaction, but Pettigrew mimed writing.

Since Circe had nothing better to do that class, she ripped a small piece of parchment, took out her quill, and jotted a note back.

_Family secret. – Carrow_

In reality, the curse had been an ill-performed version of a spell she'd caught Snape scrawling on a scrap of paper in Charms. She hadn't known what it would do but had been satisfied enough that she'd stashed it away for future perfection and use. Circe may have been a shunned Slytherin, but she appreciated the power of the dark arts.

In the right hands, those spells could do wonders. And Circe's hands were very right indeed.

After a short wait to ensure Slughorn wasn't going to paying attention to her, Circe threw the paper back to Potter, not charming it as he had. It didn't land in their potion, something even Circe knew wouldn't have been a good thing. They read it quickly – which included showing it to both Lupin and Black, whose backs were facing her – before scrawling a response and tossing it back to her.

Malfoy and Rowle looked almost murderess about the fact they were still in Slughorn's class and could thus do nothing about her passing notes. Even the Gryffindor quartet might have escaped point removal because she was involved.

She would certainly miss this special treatment once Potions stopped.

_Pretty please? And Sirius says that he's never heard of a Carrow family curse._

Circe quite enjoyed waiting a few minutes to reply to their note. It forced Potter and Pettigrew to attempt to get her attention through a series of increasingly enlarging mimes whenever Slughorn wasn't paying attention and their potion didn't need tending.

_Secret_.

The reply had different handwriting.

_The Blacks don't have a family curse._

When Circe looked up, Black had turned around in his seat so that he could see her himself.

_Ask your little brother. They never taught you because you were such a failure to the family name._

Black's response was just raised eyebrows and a mouthed "and your dad wasn't?"

"Mr. Black," Slughorn said, making the boy spin back in his seat. "As wonderful as Miss Carrow is to speak to, I'd recommend you and Mr. Lupin return your focus to your potion."

Black gave Slughorn a large smile. "Apologies, sir. I just couldn't resist looking at her beautiful face. It's so entrancing." The comment earned him scoffs from general Slytherins and a blown kiss from Circe.

Here, among students of her year, it wasn't quite as necessary to remain the fierce dueler identity, though she never let it drop.

Potions progressed from there as the classes normally did, with Slughorn coming to talk with Circe whenever he'd determined the class didn't need constant supervision. There were other Slug Club members in the class – Snape, Potter, Malfoy, and Evans mainly – but, as they were all busy with potions, Circe was the only option available to entertain Slughorn.

Circe had never claimed to have a winning personality, but Slughorn seemed to like her enough.

He was one of the few.

+CC+

Circe wasn't certain how she escaped retaliation for Mulciber for the rest of the week, but she was glad it occurred. The gang of Slytherins glared at her wherever she went, but that wasn't new. Circe had long ago gotten used to every Slytherin she encountered glaring at her. A few even spat when they felt particularly disagreeable, which was most days.

She was the daughter of a blood traitor who'd made it no secret that she hated the rest of them with every bone in her body. She'd hated them all from before she'd even stepped onto the train first year.

But had that stopped her from refusing the hat when it had told her she'd do well in Slytherin?

Fuck no.

Circe had always known she'd be a Slytherin. She'd made peace with it long before Hogwarts.

She'd made peace with the fact no one would ever like her properly, even if the majority of Hogwarts didn't care she was a blood traitor. If anything, that fact might have made them love her more and accept her into their ranks despite her house. But Circe hadn't let them.

She didn't need anyone else.

Fraternity was one aspect of the Slytherin house that Circe had never connected with.

Slytherins hated her, she hated them. Hogwarts feared her, and she didn't give a fuck. Let them whisper about her. Let them flinch when she looked in their direction. Let her haunt their nightmares.

Circe knew who she was.

She had, for one year, had regular contact with a friend. Andromeda Black had only crossed Circe's time at Hogwarts for her first year, but that one year had been enough. Little eleven-year-old Circe had yet to develop her reputation, but having the middle Black sister's protection meant that no one had dared touch her while she'd learned.

Circe had nearly shunned Andromeda too, but the woman had sat her down and explained, quite simply, what she'd been planning on doing and why Circe could trust her.

Andromeda Black had been planning on marrying a Muggle-born, which meant she'd be shunned from her family just as Circe's own father had been. It meant that, really, they were on the same side and if Circe had refused her help she would have been an idiot.

Circe wasn't an idiot.

They still exchanged letters. Circe had visited Andromeda's daughter over the Christmas break. The three-year-old had turned her nose into various animals, having perfected it and wanted to show it off to "mum's friend Cece."

"Well, look who I've found here," Lestrange's voice drew Circe's attention to where he was lounging in an alcove as she passed. The boy, like the rest of the pure-blooded bastards she shared a house with, possessed an inborn confidence and elegance, charm on show even here. Of course, Circe had also inherited it, which meant that, at the moment, he was annoying, not enticing. "Circe Enyo Carrow."

She didn't bless him with a response, though she did let her wand slip into her hand as she continued to walk.

"Come now," he said, standing with a hand raised. "I just wanted to chat."

"Fuck off." They were alone in the corridor. It was a cold day and the rest of the castle was buried deep inside, huddled next to fireplaces. Circe, on the other hand, had decided to stroll in the wonderfully deserted outer corridors, far away from the Slytherin common room, to treasure some of the limited private spaces Hogwarts had to offer.

Lestrange had followed her.

She heard him start to whisper a spell – how Slytherin, cursing when your opponent's back was turned – and spun to counter it. The result was a loud bang that would have drawn attention if anyone were near enough to hear it, but both wands were left in hand and Circe transferred into an attack position.

Lestrange didn't look worried. Perhaps he thought she'd gone soft over Christmas.

As if Circe Carrow would ever go soft.

He made to cast another spell, hissing that one to the point that even she couldn't guess which curse he was going to throw. She cast her own protection spell but, honestly, defense had never been her strong suit. She was still far better than most anyone else, but sometimes a well-aimed spell could break her shield charm.

And Lestrange, to his credit, was good at aiming.

His disarming charm left her disarmed and incredibly angry.

Lestrange was quite pleased. "A lot less confident without your wand, aren't you?" he kept his wand out as he moved closer, but Circe didn't move back until he'd grabbed her shoulder and shoved her back against the wall. His wand tip went to her throat, digging to the point she knew it would bruise. "Now, what fun should I have with you?"

"Mulciber was too scared to do this himself then?" Circe kept an easy smile. She would not be afraid of him. She would not give him that fucking satisfaction.

"Oh no, I volunteered. Thought it time you learned your place."

"I don't believe you get to decide that." She made for her wand in his other hand, but Lestrange threw it down the corridor.

"Sorry, Carrow. You're not getting that back anytime soon."

"I will say, I'm impressed that you came on your own. You weren't so brave last year."

Lestrange smirked. "I don't enjoy sharing."

"Or you didn't want them to see me make you cry."

His now free hand brushed against her waist, his whole body shifting to make it clear that, as far as he was aware, she wasn't going anywhere. "I won't be crying, Carrow." His wand went deeper and, if he shifted it, she wouldn't have been able to breathe. "You know, I've never personally performed this curse on anyone else. Don't really know when to stop. You're going to be my experiment."

Circe knew what curse he had in mind. They hadn't even learned about it in DADA, but Lestrange had an older brother – currently married to Andromeda's older sister – who'd begun to make the papers together with their special talent for it.

"_Crucio._"

The pain was nothing like anything Circe had ever or could ever have experienced before. Her body fell away from her and all that was left was the pain, hotter than fire, hotter than possible. And it was everywhere. In every vein and every inch of skin and every small space inside of her that had been left open. It was a scream. It was white and red and loud and silent.

And then it stopped. It vanished in an instant, but the space it left took a long time for Circe to return to. Slowly, her vision cleared and her body regained enough sensation – filling her with needles and a bruise that went into her organs – for her to realize she was lying on the corridor floor. Once the cold registered, Circe embraced it, regardless of how much it felt like her chest would snap if she breathed.

"Oh, that was lovely," Lestrange hissed, the sound coming from somewhere above her. Circe was half-aware of his presence, but she hadn't opened her eyes yet. "What did you think, Carrow? Want another go?" Circe forced her eyes open enough, reflexively blinking them from the switch to bright light, that she could see her wand where it had fallen down the corridor. Lestrange, noticing or not, stepped into her line of sight and forced her to look at the bottom of his robes. "I won't do it again if you say please."

Circe said nothing, just grit her teeth and wondered how far screams traveled in empty Hogwarts halls. She didn't like wondering about salvation from others.

"I knew you were an idiot, Carrow, but really?" He crouched down, his wand hanging loosely in his hand. He was cocky. Let him. Let him think she was in too much pain to move. "Beg for relief, Circe Enyo Carrow. I'll grant it if you beg me."

He leaned closer and Circe took advantage of that.

She fought the pain – it ripped through her, every muscle and bone protesting at any movement, let alone quick movements – and grabbed his wand where it hung. She pulled. His shock was enough to get his own wand at his throat. "Beg and I won't curse your balls off."

"Now, be smart, Carrow." He was afraid. She could see the fear in his eyes. She could feel him shake. Could feel his pulse rising.

"Beg, Lestrange." She pulled herself up more, moving to kneel. That was worse, but she pretended the pain wasn't there.

He just spat in her face.

"_Petrificus Totalus_." Lestrange fell back with a loud bang, body frozen stiff. Circe forced herself to stand, looking down at him with an only slightly repressed smile. "Thought it time you learned your place." And then she put her full body-weight into crushing his wand-hand, relishing in the satisfying crunch of bones.

"Merlin's soggy ballsack!" Black shouted from the other end of the corridor. Circe looked up, only remembering to look at ease half-way through the action. The Gryffindor quartet that had appeared looked quite out of breath, like they'd just finished running. "What were you doing to him?"

She laughed, which nearly made her fall to her knees from the pain. It was beginning to fade, but every new action made it flare. Aftershocks of mal-performed curses were never fun. "If that's your way of telling me that you think Lestrange screams like a girl, I salute you all."

Potter frowned. "It wasn't him screaming, then?"

Circe walked forward, bending to pick up her own wand as she passed it. "No, it wasn't him." She considered Lestrange's wand as she neared them. "You know, I'm really tempted to just snap this."

"Is that..." she nodded. "I would heavily advise against it."

Circe narrowed her eyes at Lupin. "I wasn't asking for your advice." And then she, again, quite satisfyingly, snapped Lestrange's wand in half. All four boys flinched at the crack. Circe glanced at one broken end. "Unicorn hair. Not my first guess."

And then she kept walking, forcing the four boys to part around her. Let Lestrange buy a new wand. His family had enough money to buy him a new wand for every week of the rest of his hopefully short life. Besides, he was lucky she wasn't going to turn him in for using an unforgivable curse on her.

Circe didn't need anyone else's help. She wouldn't go running to anyone just because someone had cursed her.

The four boys watched her leave, ensuring she was out of sight, before looking at each other and the Slytherin half-way down the hall. "We were not here," Potter hissed.

Circe heard him. She smiled.

"That's a new smile for you." Instinctually, Circe slipped the broken wand bits up her sleeve, supporting them with her palm since her holster wasn't designed for two halves. She'd yet to decide exactly how she was going to dispose of it but knew it wasn't going to be this close to his body. When she turned to see who'd spoken, her smile tensed.

It was that year's DADA professor, though Circe didn't think he deserved the title. He was so young that Circe knew they'd crossed paths for one year at Hogwarts, though he, of course, had been a Gryffindor. Grant Renshaw. A fucking cunt.

"What's got you so pleased today?" he was just walking in from strolling the grounds, so he hadn't heard the screams – at least, she hoped. He didn't look like he had just heard someone being tortured.

"Just enjoying the day."

"Then I must never have seen you enjoying something before."

The smile tensed to the point that it hurt more than the dull ache still all over her. "Must not."

Renshaw glanced down the hall and Circe was thankful she'd turned a corner since Lestrange. Part of her did wish she could stay nearby just to watch what story Lestrange would have attempted to spin to explain why he was lying, sans wand, petrified in the middle of an abandoned corridor. "Any particular goal of today's stroll?"

"Not today."

"Mind if I join you?"

Circe did mind quite a bit. Renshaw had made it clear to the students that he didn't believe witches were as good at magic as wizards. Most of the school hated him for it and Circe had even seen a few of the professors looking as though they were considering the best ways to curse him right. No one knew how he'd fooled Dumbledore into hiring him – he wasn't even that good of a wizard!

Honestly, she could have taught the class better than he had been. It was OWL year, after all. DADA was important. The majority of her year was terrible.

Of course, Circe wasn't worried. She knew she'd beyond pass her DADA OWL – in her second year, she'd picked which five classes she would take to NEWT level in order to qualify for Auror training. After all, you couldn't be both a Slytherin and a member of the Slug Club and not have a plan for your future.

"Actually, I've just remembered something I simply must go speak with Slughorn about. Terribly sorry."

Renshaw waved a hand. "No worries. I'll see you in class."

Circe fought the temptation to transfigure his face into something suitably dunce-like and walked back the way she'd come, though she took the corridor the Gryffindor quartet had entered through instead of walking past Lestrange again.

She chucked the broken wand pieces to the side at random points as she strolled her winding path back through the corridors, picking her way through currently abandoned classrooms.

Even if it meant no more regular special treatment by Slughorn, Circe couldn't wait for the next year and only six classes – Transfiguration, Alchemy, Charms, Herbology, DADA, and, to really shove it in the face of the other Slytherins, Muggle Studies. After that, there were only two years until she could go become the greatest Auror the Ministry had ever seen.

Because Circe was going to be the one who captured Lestrange and his fucking gang. She was going to be the one who gave all those dark wizards exactly what they deserved.

**A/N: Thank you for looking at this story and I hope you will continue to appreciate the adventures of Circe Enyo Carrow from fifth year and beyond.**

**I picture her looking similar to Emily Beecham in her chin-length hair days.**


	2. The Gryffindor Boys

**The Gryffindor Boys**

Either the Slytherin gang decided that it really was too dangerous to attack Circe again, or Lestrange had framed the story to convince them to stay away. Either way, it made Circe's life quite a bit easier if she didn't have people randomly attempting to curse her in the halls.

She did cackle when she saw Lestrange with a brand new wand the week after she'd snapped his, which had earned her a glare from Rowle, who'd always been sweet on Lestrange despite the boy being unofficially engaged to the current second-year Bella Flint. They were all respectable pure-bloods so, in the end, it didn't matter.

Circe wanted to break the girl's nose.

After all, even if none of them directly talked to her, Circe heard everything they said. She knew all the pure-blood gossip she could have ever wanted and didn't even have to attend any of their stupid galas or take tea with people who either wanted to enslave or kill all Muggles, Muggle-born, and blood traitors.

She just had to sleep next to them.

Circe had quite enjoyed surrounding her bed with Muggle posters that the girls who shared her dorm could do nothing about. They still glared every time they looked at her bed, but Andromeda had taught her a particular charm that meant no one but her could touch them.

Her father had told her that it wasn't worth it, that it was best to lower her head and bide her time until Hogwarts was done, but her father had never had any spirit for war. Enough to leave an ancient pure-blood family and run off with the Muggle woman he'd fallen in love with, but not for fighting.

Circe had a spirit for war. She had battle in her bones, fire in her blood. She would be everything her father hadn't been, and more.

Even if no one wanted her. Even if every fucking side refused to support her. She would fight and kill as many fucking Death Eaters as she could. She would laugh as they fell because they had no right to live in this world.

Circe's mother was a strong supporter of Circe fighting back. Her father may have given her pure-blooded Slytherin aristocracy, but her mother had given her all that fight that would never be silenced. Her mother, dark-haired and wonderfully Muggle, wanted her daughter to flaunt it in the face of everyone who dared tell her that her blood was poison.

Yes, Circe was poison. And she would kill them all.

When it was finally time for the first Hogsmeade visit of the year, on Valentine's day, Circe went with one thing in mind.

Elpis, her little sister, had asked Circe to bring her back something magical and she was happy to oblige.

Elpis, who was only nine but had never shown an ounce of magical ability. Who they all knew would never come to Hogwarts, no matter how much she'd told Circe she'd wished for it. Who the majority of the wizarding world would spit at if they encountered her because Squibs, in their eyes, were a waste of space.

Elpis, who'd started to dream of being a doctor because "Circe is going to get into a lot of trouble and someone needs to know how to fix her up."

When Elpis asked for something, Circe delivered.

It was a strangely warm February, even at Hogwarts, so the school descended on the wizarding village sans the cloaks and scarfs from before Christmas. Circe wandered through it with the "resting-bitch-face" she was known for – the term coined by Andromeda in second year when Circe came to visit the then newly born Dora.

Before she purchased anything, Circe ducked into the Three Broomsticks to get herself a bottle of pumpkin fizz. She spotted the Gryffindor quartet in the corner, but they were so enraptured by each other that they didn't notice her presence.

Even as the shunned Slytherin and waltzer through nightmares, Circe had never had the chance to have long conversations with the Gryffindor quartet, though she had spoken to them more than she had to the rest of their year combined. They were the only four brave – or stupid – enough to attempt to engage with her at all. The fact the rest of the school had deemed her unapproachable meant that they were practically expected to do just that.

Which had mainly resulted in her being the one they would bat eyelashes at because even they weren't brave enough to attempt to prank her. They were well aware of the fact she was not afraid of cursing them.

She'd cursed Potter in first year to make his ears grow thrice the size. He'd gotten better at dodging since then.

They hadn't actually spoken much over the years beyond the few Muggle Studies assignments that Potter, Black, and Pettigrew had needed another partner for. For some reason, she seemed to be the one they always desperately wanted to pick – simply because no one else would and they were Gryffindors so fuck what anyone else would do.

"Looking for a drinking companion?"

Circe didn't even look to see who'd spoken, just flipped them off.

"Oh, you're lucky you're my favorite, my girl."

She spun to find that Slughorn had stepped up beside her. "Professor!"

He was smiling. "No worries, my girl, no worries. I am well aware of your...tendencies." She smiled, a real one. "I have no doubt that you're about to be quite busy looking for something for your lovely sister, the poor girl," she'd told Slughorn about her little sister before, having required his assistance to acquire something Elpis had asked for. He'd sent the girl a present every holiday since. "I thought I'd take the opportunity to remind you of my little upcoming supper."

"Oh, don't worry, sir. I never forgot." Circe stepped back, a bottle of pumpkin fizz in hand. "See you in class on Monday?"

"Of course, Miss Carrow, of course." Slughorn waved at her before turning to summon Rosmerta for whatever his drink of choice for that day was.

Circe took the chance to leave the inn before he could find some other reason to keep her.

That attempt was fumbled by the inn's door opening again to let in two of the Slytherin gang, Snape and Mulciber. The taller boy immediately grinned. "What a treat."

Circe just nodded back at Slughorn. "No violence in front of the Slug, Mulciber. He'd never make you a member then." She tried to push past them, but Mulciber grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

"Not so fast," he hissed, bending down to speak in her ear. "You're coming with us." He started to pull her towards the door. Circe was strong, but she wasn't as physically strong as Mulciber when he put his full strength behind it.

"Don't you have the Goyle girl to entertain? It's Valentine's Day."

His grip on her tightened. Circe felt Snape's wand shove into her side. "Not surprised you don't have anyone today."

"Oh, I do," Circe slid out her wand as Mulciber pushed back through the door. "He's back at home. A Muggle."

In a different situation, Mulciber may have released her on instinct from that admission tainting her even more than her identity as a blood traitor. Sadly, that didn't happen today. "Of course. They're the only monsters a half-breed like you deserves." Circe didn't appreciate the lovely weather outside as much anymore. She was thankful that there was a crowd, so Mulciber and Snape couldn't do anything immediately, but there were plenty of shadows in the alleys, one of which she was currently being pulled towards. She still had to get out of their reach.

Circe attempted to find a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor who looked willing to exhibit the helpful bystander trait the two houses tended towards, but, of course, no one was daring to stare at the two Slytherins, let alone her. No one was noticing what was happening to her.

It was good, then, that Circe didn't need any of them. As a group of fourth year Ravenclaws moved past them, Circe took advantage of the shift they forced to step away from Snape's wand point, allowing her to free her own wand and shoot the first two jinxes she could at Mulciber. The spell fizzled out before it did any harm, but it was enough for Mulciber to let go of her arm and Circe to duck away from them.

She didn't get far before she felt a spell hit the bottom of her spine. It was an attempt at body-bind – possessing the distinct sharp of pain that Circe knew differentiated that spell from a leg-locker – but Snape hadn't done the best job and the most it had done was make her legs freeze and Circe fall forward, catching herself mid-fall on the first person she could reach.

It was only when the person turned that Circe discovered she'd grabbed the back of a Gryffindor's cloak. Specifically, a Gryffindor Prefect. Specifically, the Muggle-born Lily Evans. "Wha..." the girl exclaimed, but then she saw Snape and Mulciber reaching for Circe again. "What in Merlin are you doing, Severus?" She helped Circe stand beside her, letting Circe use her shoulders to support her failed legs.

"No need to get involved, Mudblood," Mulciber hissed, reaching for Circe. "Inter-house conflict."

"Do please get involved," Circe said, moving to curse the boy again. "Let's turn him into a slug."

Evans pulled her back more. "Let's not."

"I'll curse you too, Mudblood."

Before Evans could speak, Circe shot an attempt at slug transformation, but Transfiguration wasn't her best subject, so it only turned Mulciber's tongue into a slug-like substance. Granted, Circe was quite pleased with that. Evans grabbed her arms and dragged her back into the Leaky Cauldron to avoid an increased conflict.

There was a booth open near the door and Evans dropped Circe onto it. "Finite Incantatem."

Circe's legs jumped apart. "Thanks for the salvation, Evans."

"You have to stop doing that."

"I didn't do anything! They were the ones attacking me." Circe stood. "But, seriously, Evans. Thanks. I'm very lucky Snape has yet to master the body-bind. That could have been much worse."

Evans crossed her arms. "You need to tell Slughorn about it, Carrow."

"Things like that have been happening since first year. Even Slughorn isn't that much of an idiot."

"You're his favorite. He'd have done something if he knew."

"The fact I've kept avoiding serious incidents is the reason I'm his favorite, Evans. Besides, my reputation would be corrupted if I started running to professors for protection."

"Evans!" Potter shouted, making both girls' turn to look at his table. "How're y..." then he noticed Circe. "I never would have picked you two as friends."

Evans stepped back. "We're not, and mind your own business, Potter." She turned to leave and escape the Gryffindor quartet, but Circe grabbed her arm.

"Thank you," she repeated, dropping her voice so only Evans could hear. "I mean it. Most of the school wouldn't have interfered with Mulciber like that. Thank you."

The girl said nothing, but she did nod before leaving.

"Why were you talking?" Black asked and Circe turned to properly face them. The quartet had moved from their table, likely when Potter had spotted Evans, and now stood around her table. That boy had maintained an obsession with her since first year. "Evans scolding you for messing with Snivellus?"

"Mind your own business, Black." She turned to the door just as Mulciber and Snape re-entered. They weren't on the hunt anymore, but they were scanning the crowd. Circe ducked down before their gazes landed on her. "Shit."

The four boys, without thinking, mimicked her. The people around looked down in confusion at the sight of five people crouched by a booth, but no one said anything. "What did you do?" Lupin asked.

Circe frowned. "Why do both you Prefects assume I did anything? I'm more likely to be the victim, you know. They're the ones who actively go after me."

Pettigrew shrugged. "You keep winning. Makes people assume you instigated it."

"It is possible to gain the upper-hand mid-encounter." Circe dared to stand again, but ducked immediately, just avoiding Mulciber. "They always need to ruin a lovely day, don't they?"

Black grinned. "Want us to distract them?"

Circe met his eyes. The two of them had remarkably similar eyes – light grey. The result of centuries of pure-blood inbreeding. "Do you even have to ask?"

Two of the other Gryffindors grinned. It took Lupin a few seconds longer to join, mainly after Black had elbowed him. Pettigrew followed shortly after. After a nod, Circe ducked to the side as the four boys said. They started shouting something – it sounded like a song – but Circe didn't pay close attention to it. She moved quickly around the room, dodging between feet until she could reach the door.

When she glanced back, she found that Potter and Black had cleared a circle in the center and were performing some type of waltz, though it was no specific type of dance that Circe recognized.

She laughed and left Three Broomsticks. The rest of the day was less exciting, with no other Slytherins deciding to attack her on Valentine's day, all too busy with their pureblooded romances. Circe managed to find a secondhand potions book that shouted the required ingredients that she knew Elpis would adore.

She'd just turned to head back up to the castle to try and eat something before the rest of the school descended on the Great Hall when someone called behind her. "Carrow!" she looked back and found Black striding towards her, hands in his pockets. "Care for a chat?"

"Where've the rest of your quartet gone?"

"Trying to convince Pettigrew to buy candy for some seventh year." He shrugged as he reached her.

"And you abandoned that entertainment to spend time with me?" she laid a hand on her chest. "Should I be honored?"

"I wanted to ask you..." his jaw shifted. "How is my brother doing?"

Circe raised her eyebrows. "I don't spend much of my time focusing on the fourth years."

Black scoffed. "Really?"

"He doesn't seem any different."

"Can you talk to him?"

"And fight past the entire Quidditch team?" Ever since becoming seeker last year, Regulus Black was never far away from the rest of the team, of which Mulciber was a fellow member.

"You're both part of the Slug's club. Don't you have a supper coming up? You could talk to him then."

"Yes, we do, a fact you know because Potter's also a Slug club member. Make him bother your brother."

"But you're both Slytherins. It'll be easier for you."

Circe scoffed. "He's your brother. If you care about him so much, you should have stayed in contact."

Black clenched his fists. She couldn't see his hands, but she saw his arms tighten. "I won't do that to him."

Circe paused for a heartbeat. "Why did you leave your family?" she knew the rumors of the other Slytherins – it was how she'd even learned he'd left them – but no one had decided what the true reason was. Regulus had been hounded the first day, but he'd only shared that his brother had been officially blasted from the family tree.

"Why should I tell you?" Black laughed, though it was hollow.

She stopped, grabbing his arm. They were utterly alone on the path back up to the castle, which was the only reason she was willing to touch him in that manner. It was not affectionate, but it was as close as she'd come here with anyone entire time at Hogwarts. "I was not lying I said you'd be welcome at my father's if you needed to be. The same extends to me." She held his gaze. "I know what it is to live in a world of pure-blooded bastards, more than any of your friends." Potter was the only one with a pure-blooded family, but they had never been a part of the rest of the inbreeding.

"So you think that means I should trust you?"

"You came to ask me about your brother. I think you already do, like it or not." She released his arm. "You don't have to tell me." Another pause. "If I can get Regulus alone, I'll ask how he is."

"Thank you."

Circe smiled. "Now, should we kiss, so that the sixth years following us can start a rumor that's the reason you ran away from home?" the two Slytherin girls were glaring at Circe and Black, having just started on the path.

Black really laughed then and they continued up to the castle. "Don't be offended Carrow, but I do not want to kiss you."

"Likewise, Black."

They reached the gate and he held it open for her, bowing slightly as she passed. "My lady."

+CC+

Slughorn's supper was the next week and Circe arrived fashionably late, flaunting her Muggle dress. Everyone had just begun to move towards the table, but they turned at her arrival, Slughorn grinning widely. Behind him, Potter waved, though he was focused more on Evans, who stood with Snape. "Ah, my girl. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't make it."

Circe smiled at the professor. "I would never miss one of your suppers."

He gestured for her to come closer. "Now, tell me, what do you think of the book I lent you?"

As Circe spoke to him and settled into her seat at the table – beside him, offsetting Malfoy and making the girl glare at Circe before Slughorn could notice – she looked around for Black's brother. Regulus ended up across from her, constantly speaking with a Slytherin girl at his side.

The rest of the supper was uneventful. Malfoy did keep kicking Circe's shin until Circe leaned over and reminded her that the next time she had her wand, Malfoy could kiss goodbye to her lovely golden hair. That shut her up. Slughorn moved around the table and asked each of them about whatever was currently happening in their life, which was how Circe discovered Regulus had received a new broom for Christmas.

If Slughorn knew about what had happened in the Black house, he didn't ask. Circe had to wait until they were all milling around together after dessert. Those who wanted had a small glass of wine – Circe swirled her own – and the rest merely a glass of juice. She managed to corner Regulus as he moved to put down his empty glass.

"Hello," she said, taking a sip.

Regulus glanced at her. "Hello."

"How are you doing?"

He raised his eyebrows. He greatly resembled his brother, but there was a reason that Black drew more attention than his little brother. "Has my brother sent you?" She nodded. "Tell him that I don't need people checking up on me. I can take care of myself."

"Well, then may I ask how you are on my own, since we are of the same house and probably third cousins twice removed or something?" She put down her glass. "So long as you don't tell anybody that I expressed any concern for you."

He glanced around the room. "We are in public."

"I'm just casually chatting with a fellow classmate who has never actively attacked me in the halls." She sighed. "I will warn you, Slughorn will start bugging you about becoming my friend for the next few weeks. He is insistent that I need one."

Regulus cracked a small smile. "We are second cousins, by the way. Both our grandmothers were Crabbes."

"Charming." She stepped closer. "Are you actually okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Even at home?"

Regulus stiffened. "We're fine."

"If you ever need to talk..."

"You don't mean that." Regulus went to move past her. "I appreciate you asking after me, but you don't need to do anything else." He paused. "Tell my brother that I'm fine. I don't need him sending people after me. I can handle our parents myself."

Circe didn't try and stop him. She just found a new glass of wine. When she turned, she nearly ran headfirst into Potter. He grabbed her arm to help balance her. "Woah, Carrow. How much have you drunk?"

Circe stepped out of his hold. "I'm perfectly sober." She took a drink. "Did Black tell you to check in on me after I talked to his brother?"

He stepped back to give her more space. "He thought it'd be easier than the two of you trying to find a way to talk in private again."

"Regulus is fine. To quote 'I can handle our parents myself'."

Potter grinned. "Sirius will be thankful."

Circe scoffed. "Don't let him thank me."

"Don't worry, we would never dream of it." He stepped back and gave her a dramatic bow. "See you in classes, Carrow."

She just sighed at him and walked past him towards Slughorn. Thankfully, no one else stepped into her path to try and talk to her the rest of the night. She was the last one there, leaving a few minutes after Snape and Evans, who'd monopolized most of Slughorn's time with discussing the discovery of a new potion.

It was later than even Circe dared be out wandering the castle, but all Prefects knew the members of the Slug Club on sight and tended to give them a free pass on the nights of Slughorn's get-togethers.

This meant that she was not expecting anyone to stop her. Really, she wasn't expecting to see anyone. She wasn't as aware as she typically was of her surroundings.

So she didn't notice when someone approached her from behind until it was far too late and a wand was pressed to her neck.

"Look who've I've found," Mulciber's breath brushed her ear.

"I'd be careful if I were you."

Mulciber laughed. "You don't have your wand. For once, I have the high ground."

Inwardly, Circe cursed the fact she'd let that fact slip to Malfoy. "Perhaps I was lying."

Mulciber pressed his wand tighter. "Would you have let me get so close if you were?" Circe said nothing. "Come on out, boys." Her heart started to hammer in her throat despite herself. The rest of the Slytherin gang emerged from a nearby classroom, wands in all of their hands.

"Don't be stupid," she warned.

"There's no one around to save you this time," Snape said.

Mulciber wrapped an arm around her chest, locking one arm to her side. "You're all ours."

Circe may have still been able to get Mulciber's wand away from him if she surprised him, but after pulling a similar trick on Lestrange she knew they'd be looking for it. Even then, once she had the wand, it likely wouldn't obey her well enough to let her curse five boys at once, including its actual master. She could always try to run, but they all had wands and it wouldn't take that good of aim to hit her, and then she'd be in the same situation.

"I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

Lestrange laughed. "Yes, we can agree that you deserve to be punished for being a blood traitor." He came closer and grabbed her jaw. "It's time we had some fun with you."

"Careful, Lestrange," she ground out. "Don't want my dirty Muggle blood to contaminate you. Mummy might not let you home again."

Lestrange punched her stomach, making her keel over in Mulciber's hold.

This was not good. This was very, very not good.

But she was Circe Carrow. She would find a way out.

"You're all so brave," she said, breathing through her nose. "I'm almost complimented that you need five armed men to have a chance at overpowering me. No doubt all your mothers are pushing you to breed with me to strengthen the family lines."

That earned another hit and that time Mulciber dropped her to the ground. Lestrange kicked her in the chest a few times, each time making her breath harder to draw, before grabbing her hair to force her to his eye level when he crouched down. "Please, do tell how you're going to get out of this."

"If I told you, we wouldn't have any fun."

Lestrange dropped her and kicked again. If any of her ribs survived this, she would be shocked. "Who wants to try it first?" Another kick.

"I'll try," Avery said. Circe had just managed to push herself up, pulling off her bracelet, when he began to speak again. "Imp..." Circe spun and threw her bracelet at him. She wasn't actually aiming to hit him, just to distract him.

She could deal with Crucio or any other painful dark curse they wanted to try on her. But she would not let these idiots use Imperio. It was a dangerous curse to be cast by the unprepared and she much preferred to keep her mind her own.

"Don't you dare," she hissed and made herself stand up. The boys formed a circle around her. "You know they'd send you all to Azkaban if you actually tried that on me."

Lestrange pouted. "Always ruining all our fun."

She turned in a small circle, trying to keep herself from holding onto her torso. "You know, if you let me go, I won't curse you all to hell and back once I have a wand." Wilkes seemed slightly convinced by the offer but the others didn't move. "I keep giving you chances to run. My high regard for your intelligence is quickly diminishing the longer you stay."

"Why don't we shut her up?" Mulciber said, adjusting his grip on his wand. "I think she's done enough talking." He stepped forward. "_Silencio_."

The charm hit her chest and Circe felt her voice ripped from her as though it was a physical thing. Of course, Mulciber was good at Charms – even Circe hadn't mastered this one yet. Thankfully, she still had the use of her hands, so she flipped all of them off, glaring.

Lestrange made to stride forward, but he paused at a sound down the corridor. His gaze flickered back. "You said no one was down here," Avery hissed at Lestrange, the Prefect of their group.

"No one should be." He stepped away from the group, fully facing where the sound had come from. "Who's ther..." he was cut off by an arm appearing in midair to punch him squarely in the face. Lestrange fell back, grasping at his face, unable to form proper words to curse whoever was responsible. The rest of the boys all turned as well, but they didn't know where to curse.

Circe had just swallowed hard when she heard someone whisper from beside her. "Duck." She didn't think hard about it, just obeyed. Some type of fabric fell around her and a hand pulled her standing, though it also held her quite close to their body. "Stay crouched, and let me guide you." By then, she recognized Potter from his voice and body, still wearing the dress robes from the supper.

"Wait, where did she go?" Snape cried, making Circe frown.

Potter only pulled her along, moving through the boys carefully as they tried to close in and locate her again. He didn't let them stop until they couldn't hear anyone again, and only then did Potter pull them into an empty classroom and remove whatever fabric he'd draped over them. "Are you alright?" he asked, whispering. Circe gestured at her mouth, though her attention kept being drawn to the fabric. If it had kept the boys from seeing them, then that meant it was some kind of invisibility cloak...and quite a good one, it seemed. "Oh, right. _Finite Incantatem_."

Her voice returned to her in a jolt. "What the hell just happened?"

Potter frowned. "I'd like to ask you the same question, Carrow."

"You have an invisibility cloak."

That made him wince. "Yes."

"You punched Lestrange." A nod. "Oh, Potter, I can't decide to curse you or kiss you."

He took an immediate step back. "I'd prefer neither." Then his brow furrowed. "Wait, curse? But I just saved you."

"I would have hoped that you would have learned this by now, but I never need to be rescued. I can handle myself fine on my own."

"Even without a wand? Against five armed competent Wizards?"

"I'm capable of far more than you think."

He nodded. "I'm well aware of that, but you can't actually have had a plan to get out of there alive."

Circe shrugged. "Who needs plans?" She crossed her arms. "What were you doing there, anyway? You left Slughorn's an hour ago."

Potter fingered the invisibility cloak. "I was going down to the kitchens." He looked her over. "You are alright, aren't you?"

She restrained herself from rubbing her stomach or chest. "I'll be a bit bruised, but everything can heal." She almost laughed. "Lestrange has a strong arm."

Potter swallowed. "Do you need me too..."

"Escort me to my dormitory?" Circe scoffed. "I promise I'll be fine, Potter. No need to be a hero again." She made to go past him, but Potter held out an arm, stopping her.

"I can't just let you leave unarmed when they're all probably still looking for you. Especially if you're going back to the Slytherin common room."

"I'll be going back to my wand," she reminded him. "They know not to mess with me when I have a wand in hand. Today was just bad luck."

He tightened his jaw and then pulled his own wand from his back pocket. "Take it."

"I'm not taking your wand, Potter."

"I have this," he waved the invisibility cloak. "You can just give it back to me tomorrow." He held it out to her. "Take it, please."

She held his gaze, frowning. "You're actually concerned about me. Why? You're only ever nice to people who can do something for you or you're attracted to."

"I've been nice to you before."

"Not nice enough to trust me with your wand. We're not friends."

Potter clenched the hand holding the invisibility cloak. "I can't just stand by and watch those bastards hurt you if that's what you're asking for. Even if we're not friends."

Circe laughed. "In the future, I'll be sure to call out for my savior, James Potter. He may not be my friend, but he'll still save me." That made him smile. "I don't need your wand, Potter. I don't need to be indebted to you Gryffindors anymore than I already am."

"You're not indebted to us." She raised her eyebrows at him. "I promise. Remus wouldn't let us."

"Which means you intended to use helping me to your advantage." She pushed down his arm. "Now that I'm aware of the threat, I'll be able to avoid it. But thank you for your concern." She left him there and was, thankfully, correct. The Slytherin boys didn't find her until she was already back in the dormitory, wand in hand.

They didn't dare attack her then.

**A/N: Circe should really watch herself when she starts telling people she doesn't have her wand on her...**


	3. Handle Myself

**Handle Myself**

Circe found ways to avoid the majority of her house whenever they weren't trapped in class together. She hated to seem so obviously afraid of them, but she didn't actually want to keep being attacked in the halls.

Thankfully, most other professors liked her enough to let her stay late or come early. McGonagall kept looking as though she were about to try and talk to Circe about what had happened, so she stopped using the Transfiguration room.

It was a warmer day in mid-March, so while the rest of the school wandered about the grounds, Circe remained indoors, spending most of the morning in the Great Hall. She'd just stepped past the doors when she looked to the side and cursed silently. Mulciber and Avery were stalking in from outside, but thankfully they didn't appear to see her alone, even if she did have her wand.

But they did see something. "Oi, Macdonald!" Mulciber called. Circe peeked around the doorframe. The Gryffindor fifth year had just reached the bottom of the stairs, a book in hand. She rolled her eyes at the Slytherin boys. "Come on, smile for me."

"Shut up, Mulciber," she snapped. Macdonald's eyes flicked around in an attempt to find some other way through the hall that didn't involve passing by the Slytherins. Circe slipped her wand from her strap. She had no particular kinship with Macdonald normally, but she would never miss a chance to curse Mulciber or Avery. Particularly when they were being bastards.

Circe had just looked back to Mulciber when she saw a wicked smile growing on his face. He raised his wand. "_Levicorpus._"

Circe's eyes widened. It was the spell she'd cast on Mulciber, snatched from one of Snape's textbooks.

The magic grabbed Macdonald by the angle and pulled her upside down. She struggled against the magic, screaming as her robes fell over her face, but the two Slytherins just laughed, moving towards her. "I wonder what else it can make her do," Mulciber said, flicking her robes with his wand. His mouth opened again, starting "_Imp..."_

In the next second, Circe had drawn her wand and petrified Mulciber and Avery. As she stepped out of the Great Hall, she tried to catch Macdonald with a spell before Macdonald hit her head on the ground as she fell, but only succeeded in slightly slowing her down.

Circe still reached the girl's side shortly after and helped her sit up, though Macdonald flinched away from her once she saw it was Circe. "Stay back," Macdonald's voice was shaking.

"Don't worry." Circe stood, kicking both petrified boys soundly in the chest multiple times over. When she finished, she looked at Macdonald. "Do you need help getting anywhere?"

Macdonald wrapped her arms around herself. "Can you get Lily? She's by the lake." She glanced down at the bodies. "I have enough confidence in your cursing to trust they will stay petrified."

Circe smiled and went out the door, looking down on the grounds. Evans and the other Gryffindor girls were not hard to spot by the lake. They all noticed Circe long before she'd reached them. "Hello, Carrow," Evans said. "How can I help you?"

"Can I speak with you privately?" She stepped back and thankfully Evans followed her, stopping a bit away from the rest of the Gryffindors. "Macdonald was attacked by Mulciber and Avery. She asked for you."

Evans' eyes widened. "Is she alright?"

"I cursed the boys before they could do much more, but I don't think she's fine after." She gestured back to the castle. "Come on."

Thankfully, Circe's curse did hold. Macdonald had managed to move away from the petrified bodies, though she wasn't standing. Evans rushed to her. "Mary, are you alright?"

Macdonald swallowed hard. "I...I think I'm fine."

"What happened?" Evans looked back at Circe. "What did they do?"

"A curse. It pulled her up by her ankle. They wanted to do more."

Macdonald looked at Circe again. "Thank you."

Circe nodded. "Just don't let anyone know I helped you." She stepped back. "I have a reputation to uphold."

Evans focused on Macdonald again. "Come on, let me help you up. We should bring you to the hospital wing."

"I'll take care of the boys," Circe told them, drawing out her wand again. "Should I test out some Transfiguration on their hair? Avery might look good with bright pink hair."

"Do your worst," Macdonald said and when Circe looked back at her, they grinned in unison.

Circe was left with the bodies in the Great Hall. She spent the next ten minutes kicking the boys in various places. She'd just been considering which curse she would leave them with when she heard someone approaching.

"Ah, hello Miss Carrow." She looked over her shoulder and found Headmaster Dumbledore approaching. It was impossible to hide the bodies, or what she'd been doing to them. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Just teaching them a lesson, headmaster." It was dangerous to try and push this with Dumbledore, even though she knew that he didn't support Death Eaters or their children. Any other professor would have given her detention immediately, but there was the chance that Dumbledore would be amused by her. He was strange like that.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, yes. Mr. Potter mentioned something about them, as well as other of your housemates."

Circe tightened her grip on her wand. "What did he say?"

Dumbledore eyed her. "Just that I should look into the behavior of those Slytherin boys. I understand that they particularly target you?"

"Just some friendly competition." Circe made herself smile. "Nothing I can't handle."

"That is not how Mr. Potter understood the situation."

"Mr. Potter is mistaken." She stepped away from the bodies. "They should be fine."

"If there is something happening, the professors are here to help you, Miss Carrow."

"Don't worry, headmaster. I know." She nodded. "If that is everything, sir..."

He waved a hand. "I will bring these boys to the hospital wing..."

Her eyes widened. "Don't." He frowned. "There's someone in the hospital wing who shouldn't see them, not right now."

Dumbledore nodded. "I understand, Miss Carrow. They will be dealt with."

"Thank you." Circe turned away as Dumbledore drew out his wand, levitating the boys and moving away from the Great Hall. She, instead, went outside and went on a hunt for the Gryffindor quartet.

She found them relaxing around a tree by the lake. She hadn't seen them earlier, but she had no doubt that they'd seen her taking Evans back up to the castle. Pettigrew shoved Black, seeming to expect that she wanted to talk to him, but instead she grabbed Potter's robes and pulled him standing.

"Oi!" he cried, stumbling.

"Wait, what's happening?" Black said.

"Shut up, Black. Potter and I have something we need to discuss." She kept pulling him away. Once they were far enough, she dropped him and slapped him.

"Ow!" he said, leaning back and rubbing his face. "What's wrong with you?"

"You told Dumbledore!" She drew out her wand and aimed it at his chest, making him raise his hands. "Where did you get the fucking idea in your head that it would be a good idea to tell Dumbledore what those fuckers did?"

"They need to be stopped and you're made it clear that you weren't going to actually try and stop them!"

"Because I have to live with them for two more years!" She jabbed her wand into his chest. "I can handle them, Potter. I don't need you running to Dumbledore for me. You have no idea what's going to happen to me now."

His eyes widened. "If you're actually in danger..."

"We're not friends, Potter, so don't bother pretending you actually care about me. You just want to antagonize them."

"And is that really so bad? They're all the children of criminals and we all know what they're going to turn into the moment they leave this school. We need to teach them to be scared of us now."

She raised her eyebrows. "So confident, Potter. You should get better at dueling if you're preparing to face them on the battlefield." She stepped back. "I told you, I can handle them. I don't need you or anyone else run to Dumbledore or any professor to try and protect me."

"So next time I see you surrounded, I should just look the other way?"

"If you actually want me to like you, Potter, yes." She slid her wand back into its strap.

"You assume I want you to like me."

She glanced at Black, who was now sitting with Lupin's hand on his shoulder to keep him from standing. "If you don't want me to start hexing you, then I'd recommend letting me like you." She stepped back. "Remember, Potter, I can handle myself."

Circe left the quartet then. It was only after she'd walked away that Lupin released Black and he sprang up to go to Potter's side. "What happened?" Black asked. "What'd she say?"

"She doesn't want us to help her."

His eyes widened. "Even after..."

"She found out I told Dumbledore."

Black nodded. "Right." He put a hand on Potter's shoulder. "She may be one of the good ones," one of the highest compliments Black could give a Slytherin, "but it's her fight, mate."

+CC+

Circe was very thankful for the Easter holidays. There was a lot of work building up as they were very quickly nearing their OWLs, but Circe was confident she could handle it. Thankfully, the train was always rather empty on the way home, as less than half of the students actually left Hogwarts for the holidays. She didn't have to worry about finding a compartment with people she was willing to share with – typically some young Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws. Instead, she just got a compartment to herself.

She dragged her trunk after her once she leaped off the train, waiting on the short line to move through the wall back into the Muggle world. Though she didn't see them first, her little sister spotted her.

"Circe!" she called. The eight-year-old girl pushed through the crowd. Circe dropped her bag and hugged her sister tightly. "You're back."

"Of course I am." She kissed the top of Elpis's head. "I could never stay away from you for long."

Their parents moved much slower through the crowd. Her mother was smiling, not caring who saw her, but her father kept eyeing the crowd. "It's so good to see you, Circe," her mother said. Elpis stepped out of the way to let Circe hug their parents, instead moving to drag Circe's trunk towards the car. "You look so beautiful."

"Thanks, Mum." Her mother kissed her cheek and they both turned to her father.

"Hello, Circe." He drew her into his embrace. "Dumbledore wrote me. We need to talk," he whispered before pulling back. Circe tried to smile at him, but even though her father was not a particularly loud man, he was a very stern one.

She'd mostly been able to keep her experiences at Hogwarts secret from him – her mother knew brief details, especially at the beginning – but she could tell that he wouldn't let her just brush it aside now.

Instead of focusing on that, she spent the car ride home listening to Elpis explain the exact details of her current school situation and the drama surrounding her neighborhood friends. It was surprisingly easy to forget her own problems at Hogwarts when her sister was in front of her.

She spent the rest of the day avoiding her father. It was only late that night, after Elpis was asleep and Circe was lying on her bed, Transfiguration textbook in hand, that her father, Plutus Carrow, appeared in her doorway. "Can we talk, Circe?"

Circe wanted so much to tell him no. She put down the book and sat up. Her father closed the door and pulled out her desk chair, sitting down. He rubbed his face. "What did Dumbledore say?"

He took a breath and looked up. "How long have you been fighting people in the halls, Circe?"

"Since...first year."

He stiffened. "What?"

"It's fine, I can handle myself. They're not actually dangerous."

"He told me that the Potter boy found you unarmed and surrounded by five Slytherin boys. All of whom have already begun to show tendencies towards the dark arts. Tell me how that's not dangerous."

Circe swallowed. She could lie to Potter, even to Dumbledore. But it was quite hard to actually lie to her father. Especially about the people he'd spent his childhood surrounded by. "I made a mistake, but I've learned from it."

"Circe, you should have told me the moment this started happening. You shouldn't have to be in that much danger every day."

"I'm not in any danger. They know that if they mess with me, they get hexed."

"That's the problem. You shouldn't have to be hexing people just to go to school." He sat back. "I'm going to write to Dumbledore. Take you out of Hogwarts for at least a year."

Circe nearly screamed. "Don't you dare. I am not going to run from them. They don't deserve that much control over my life. I'm not scared of them."

"But I'm scared for you!" He ran a hand through his hair, the same brilliant red as her own. Carrow red. "I can't just send you back to that school, not when I know that you've been lying to me about what's been happening to you there."

"I'm not going to run," she repeated. "I'm going to fight."

"You're sixteen. You shouldn't have to."

Circe shook her head. "There's a war coming. We all know it. There's nowhere left to run. The only thing I can do is fight."

Her father put his head in his hands. "Please, Circe. Don't make me send you back."

"If you take me out of Hogwarts, I will hate you for the rest of my life." She smiled. "And trust me, you don't want me to hate you. I am very good at hexing."

Her father sighed. "Circe Enyo Carrow...how did my daughter turn into you?"

"I was always like this. It's what you got when you married Mum."

He laughed. "I should have known." He looked up again. "Circe, please promise me that you won't try and antagonize them. That you'll at least try and keep your head down. Keep their attention away from you."

"Fine, Dad." She sat back against her pillows. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

"Were you planning on ever telling me?"

She shrugged. "After graduation?"

He stood and leaned over, kissing her forehead. "I love you, Circe."

"Love you too, Dad," she said. He moved towards the door. "Do you remember the Blacks?"

He stiffened. "Of course. My lovely cousins," he whispered the last part.

Circe started. She'd only just learned that she and Black were actually second cousins through their grandmothers, but here her father was, openly referring to their connection to the other pure-blooded family. He never spoke about the extent of their family tree and who they might be related to. Granted, the reason was that neither of them thought it was particularly important.

"Their eldest son, Sirius Black, recently ran away from home. His mother blasted him off the family tree and everything." Her father glanced back at her. "I opened our home to him as you have experience with that situation."

"He's a Slytherin?"

"Gryffindor."

Her father laughed. "Good for him. He can visit any time he wants." Circe laughed as well. She wasn't certain if Black would ever actually take her up on that offer, but she was glad her father wouldn't mind if he ever needed to visit. "Are you going to visit Andromeda while you're home?"

She shook her head. "They're visiting Tonks' family."

He nodded. "Goodnight, Circe."

"Night Dad." He closed the door again and Circe fell back, rubbing her eyes. She hated to see her father upset, but she couldn't just run away from the gang of Slytherins. She couldn't just let them win like that.

She would make it work. She would show them all.

+CC+

Thankfully, Luke Chambers was outside working on his father's garden when she arrived at his home, so she didn't have to go through his parents to speak to him. "Luke!" she called, shading her eyes against the sun.

He turned and she drew in a tight breath. Luke Chambers – Muggle – had been her friend since they were both six. He'd even been there the first time Circe had discovered her magic – she'd accidentally cursed his dark brown hair off when he'd shoved her into a stream. He knew that she went to Hogwarts each year and even knew some of the details about what she faced there. It was probably breaking some kind of law, but Circe couldn't give a fuck about that law.

And now he, freshly sixteen, was shirtless and sporting a rather impressive physique. She quite appreciated the sight.

"Hey Ce!" he grinned, waving and dropping the shears he'd been using. "Come on, I have something to show you!" she followed him over to his garage. He'd been trying to fix up an old car he'd found for almost a year now. "I finally got proper chairs." He opened the door to show her.

"They look great." She put her hands on her hips. "When will it be ready for a test drive?"

"By the summer holidays, definitely." He nodded. "I'll wait for you, of course."

She laughed. "You'd better, Luke Chambers."

He turned and leaned back against the car, looking her over. "You're hurt."

She shifted, her smile dying, and tried to keep herself from touching the light bruise still covering her abdomen. It had been almost two months since the boys had attacked her, but apparently they had hit quite hard. It probably also didn't help that she'd refused to rest or visit the hospital wing, even for what she was fairly certain was a broken rib. "Just an accident."

"What happened, Circe?" Luke reached out a hand and took hers, squeezing it. He'd known her for so long that even after not seeing her for months, he could recognize instantly what was wrong with her. He would have made a good Hufflepuff.

"The same idiots as always. But they won't try anything again."

"That's what you said last time."

"Well, I mean it now." She pulled her hand free from his hold. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, Luke."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I'm fucking positive." She gave him a light shove. "Come on. What do you do for fun around here now?"

They ended up in his room, as Luke wanted to show her the music of a new group he'd discovered. They'd needed to sneak past his parents as Luke really wasn't supposed to stop trimming the hedges yet. They lay next to each other on his bed, tossing a ball between them.

"They killed some people near here," she said quietly. "I never thought they would be so close."

Luke turned, lying on his side so that he could properly face her. "You said they want a war."

She nodded. "And they're getting one. The Ministry is barely doing anything to stop them. Their ranks just keep growing."

"But you're going to fight them."

"In two years."

"And you'll win." Luke put a hand on her arm. "I know you'll be able to do it, Circe."

"But in the meantime..."

"Other people will fight." He pulled her arm, making her look at him. "You're the one who told me there are people fighting. Trust them."

She almost laughed. "You of all people should know that I am terrible at that."

"Then it's good to practice." Luke rubbed her arm. "Now, tell me what you think about the song."

+CC+

The only people in Hogwarts who honestly didn't worry before their career meeting were the Slytherin members of the Slug Club. Even other Slytherins seemed worried. She overheard a few of the girls trying to pick what would impress Slughorn the most and let them join the Slug Club in their final years.

Circe just rolled her eyes and returned to her Charms essay. She'd known what she wanted to do since she was a child and known exactly how to get there.

On the day of her actual career meeting, she and Slughorn talked about her future for about a minute – "Of course, Potions would do wonders for you, but I trust if you continue some private study, maybe a few extra meetings with me, you'll be on perfect form with poisons and antidotes when it comes time for you to apply. I'll contact someone to learn some of the specific requirements, my girl, so I can ensure you're on top form." – and spent the rest of the time with Slughorn detailing his decoration plan for that year's end of term party.

She left his office with a smile, though she had to almost immediately duck because Snape was coming down the hall, presumably for his own meeting. Either he didn't see her, or he decided that it was not a wise thing to antagonize her right outside Slughorn's office.

Whichever it was, she was thankful.

She still ducked down a separate corridor just in case. As she rounded a corner, she paused at the sight of Black attempting to pick a lock on one of Slughorn's storerooms. "Forget your wand at home?" she called, making him drop a tool and turn to look at her.

"They're shielded, actually."

"And you think picking a lock with Muggle tools will help you get through?" she shook her head. "You're out of luck Black." He groaned and stood. "What were you looking for?"

"None of your business." He paused. "Why are you bothering? We're not friends."

"Very clever."

He bowed. "That's what I do best." He straightened. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get into Slughorn's stores, would you?"

"You think he'd trust me with that information? The castle wouldn't be standing anymore." Black laughed. "If you tell me what you need it for, I should be able to get you in."

"Why so curious?"

"You Gryffindors are always doing something interesting. Would you really fault me for wanting to learn what you're planning ahead of time so that I can be prepared?"

Black paused and honestly looked like he was preparing to tell her. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait just like everyone else."

She shrugged. "Good thing I don't actually know how to get in." He groaned. "I thought you'd have learned by now, Black, that you should never trust a Slytherin."

"I'd hoped you were an exception."

"Never attempt to predict me." She moved forward and meant to walk past him, but Black grabbed her arm.

"James is sorry, you know. If he'd known how much it meant to you, he wouldn't have told Dumbledore."

"You're telling me this why?"

"Because you've been ignoring all of us for the past months."

Circe pouted. "And you miss me?"

He shrugged. "Or we need another partner for that Muggle Studies final."

She shook her head. "You really have no idea how to win a girl's heart, do you Black?" She pulled herself away from him and continued walking, but couldn't help herself from stopping and turning back to him. "How's Macdonald?" She'd only really seen the girl during Potions, and then she was kept firmly on the other side of the classroom by the rest of the Gryffindors.

His expression went dark for a moment. "Better, now." He paused. "Evans said that you were the one who stopped them from doing anything else."

Circe nodded. "I may be a bitch, but I won't stand by when someone innocent is hurt."

Black raised a finger. "Let's both be clear, you're not saying that I ever called you a bitch, are you?"

"Of course not, Black. You would never be so crude." She grinned and turned to walk away.

"Does that mean we're all alright again?"

"As good as we've ever been, Black!" she reached the corner and glanced back. "I'd try the next hallway. It's far enough away from his office that he tends to forget to shield it properly. Even you might be able to break in."

"How do you know that?"

"Slughorn likes to talk." She waved. "Have fun, Black."

"Thank you!"

She just reached back around the corner and flipped him off.

**A/N: Hm...seems like Circe is getting even closer with our favorite Gryffindor quartet...and finally revealing part of her situation to her father.**

**If people are interested, I've started a Carrow family tree, just so you have a better understanding of how Circe connects to some recognizable characters. I've actually made an entire Harry Potter family tree (over 400 people!), but have yet to figure out a way to publish it where other people can see, so if anyone has any advice with that, I'd be happy to hear it!**


	4. Owls and Orders

**Owls and Orders**

Circe probably should have tried harder to actually pass her Potions OWL. She did attempt to answer everything just in case Slughorn got his hands on her papers, but she hadn't studied for it at all, so she knew it would be terrible. For the practical, she brought a note specifically written by Slughorn that warned them it would be much safer if she didn't actually attempt the potion and just took the T.

Arithmancy was amusing and, while she'd actually tried to pass it, she didn't really care. Astronomy went much the same way.

She actually tried on Charms and, while she did rather well on the written, she knew she aced the practical. She'd even enjoyed making a plate sing an opera in perfect key. She caught Potter's eyes as they were both leaving and he gave her a very enthusiastic thumbs up. She would have flipped him off, but Flitwick was watching, so she just smiled.

Muggle Studies was, as expected, a breeze. Herbology was a bit trickier, but thankfully Circe had never had the same problem she had with Potions with the other non-wand-casting subject.

By the time she reached Defense, Circe knew that all of her plans had worked in her favor. She just had to pass Transfiguration – which she would, certainly – and then she'd be able to properly continue down her desired path. She would become an Auror.

She technically finished the written exam within the first hour, but she spent the rest of the time embellishing her answers. She knew she was good at all of her classes, but she took particular pleasure with Defense, especially after having Renshaw this past year. She'd be shocked if the majority of her class ended up passing after this mess. She was just thankful he'd be gone the next two years – Defense teachers never lasted at Hogwarts.

She looked up just in time to see Black and Potter grin at each other, Potter looking back to where Black was sitting. Black noticed she was staring and turned in his seat – Flitwick, who was monitoring, was answering some Ravenclaw's last question, so didn't see. Black blew her a kiss and then mouthed "outside after?"

"Where?"

"Lake. Tree."

Circe nodded. She and the Gryffindor quartet were not friends, not anything of the sort, but they were slightly more familiar acquaintances now than they had been before December. After all, Circe didn't have friends, not at Hogwarts.

"Quills down, please!" Flitwick squeaked. "That means you too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment. _Accio!_" Their parchments flew into the air and collided with Flitwick, knocking him over. A few students near the front helped him stand again, though the rest of them had to struggle to restrain their laughter. "Thank you...thank you." He patted one of the Ravenclaw's shoulders. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"

Circe waited in her seat a bit longer than everybody else until the majority of the Slytherins had left the hall and then she smiled at Flitwick and went out to find Black. As expected, she found them collapsed around what she supposed was their favorite tree – every nice day that she dared lookout on the front of the castle, they were there, lounging.

Potter was playing with a snitch as she walked up, Pettigrew watching intently. Black, though he'd been looking around at the rest of the students, focused on her as she approached. Lupin was very obviously trying to ignore all of them, his face buried in a book.

"Yes, Black?" she asked him as she stopped before them, extremely tempted to jinx the snitch Potter was still playing with.

Black grinned, leaning back. "Just wanted to see how you found the exam, Carrow."

"Really? We're not friends." They said the last sentence in unison, which earned them a quick smile from Lupin, though he still didn't look up. "What do you want?"

Black reached over and drew out a folded bit of parchment from his bag. "Can you give this to Regulus?"

She raised her eyebrows. "I'm not a fucking owl. I'll talk to him, but I will not deliver notes between you."

"Fine." Black dropped his hand. "Don't help me."

"What about our previous interactions would have led you to think I would actually do that?"

He shrugged. "Hope?"

She paused. "If you tell me why you wanted to break into Slughorn's storerooms, I'll deliver it."

"Still have to wait, I'm afraid."

Circe backed away. "Then you can deliver your letter on your own, Black." She glanced at Potter. "See you at the Slug's." He nodded at her, still playing with the snitch.

Circe could have gone back up to the castle and probably should have to get some last practice in for the Defense practical, but it was a remarkably nice day and there were no other Slytherins insight. She ended up picking a spot a bit hidden from the rest of the school, lying back beneath a tree. She'd just closed her eyes when she heard Potter speak again.

"All right, Snivellus?" he said, seeming to want his voice to travel. Circe sat up in time to see Potter say "_Expelliarmus!"_ and send Snape's wand flying.

Black laughed as Snape dove for his wand. "_Impedimenta!_" Snape was knocked to the ground.

Other students began to circle the spectacle, far more interested than they ever were when Circe had a similar duel. After all, these were popular Gryffindors. People liked them.

Potter and Black advanced on Snape. "How'd the exam go, Snivelly?"

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment. They'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Circe had to laugh at that, standing to get a better view. Of course, she would have preferred to see Lestrange or Mulciber getting this treatment, but Snape would do just fine.

Snape struggled to try and get up, but Black's jinx was strong. "You...wait," he panted. "You...wait..."

"Wait for what?" Black asked. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Snape cursed and hexed, but his wand was too far away to do anything. "Wash out your mouth," James said, his voice going cold. "_Scourgify!"_

Soap bubbles burst from Snape's mouth, quickly making him begin to choke.

"Leave him alone!" Evans shouted, storming up to the group.

"All right, Evans?" Potter's voice deepened.

"Leave him alone." She sneered at Potter. "What's he done to you?"

"Well..." Potter paused, "it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean..." The surrounding people laughed, Circe included. She moved leaned against a tree, enjoying the sight of a Slytherin getting their due, though she still let her wand slide into her hand.

"You think you're funny," Evans hissed. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," Potter said. "Go on...go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Evans' eyes hardened. "I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid."

Black nodded. "Bad luck, Prongs." He glanced back at Snape, which drew Circe's attention to him as well. "Oy!" The jinx had worn off and Snape had managed to get to his wand, now aiming it at Potter. His silent curse cut the side of Potter's face, but Potter was quick. Circe recognized the curse used to fling Snape upside down, dangling in the air by his ankles.

The crowd cheered. "Let him down!" Evans still tried.

"Certainly." Potter jerked his wand and Snape fell.

He tried to stand, wand out, but Black caught him with a "_Petrificus Totalus!"_

"Leave him alone!" Evans shouted, drawing out her own wand.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," Potter told her.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

Potter sighed, but he still turned to Snape and used the countercurse. "There you go. You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Circe's entire body went stiff. "_Flipendo_." Snape's body jerked from the jinx from behind, flying to the ground at Potter's feet, and everyone turned to look at her, the shunned Slytherin. She was glaring at Snape, who didn't look nearly as scared as he should have, still focused on Evans.

"Fine. I won't bother in the future," Evans told him, her voice hard. "And I'd wash my pants if I were you, Snivellus."

"Apologize to Evans!" Potter aimed his wand at Snape's head.

Evans spun on him. "I don't want you to make him apologize! You're as bad as he is..."

"What? I'd never call you a...you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me sick." She turned and strode away.

"Evans! Hey, Evans!" She didn't look back. "What is it with her?"

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," Black said.

"Right. Right..." Potter turned back to Snape. A sharp crack and Snape was upside down again. Circe had been pleased when it had happened the first time, but now she was practically itching to see Snape punished. "Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"

Black looked over at Circe, his grin infective. "Want to join, Carrow?"

She walked out to their side. "Thought you'd never ask." Normally, even though she hated the Slytherins, she wouldn't continue to attack them like this, just for the show of it. She was very careful that, no matter how much she wanted to jinx them every time she saw them, she had to wait until they did something first. Let them start it.

She wouldn't have gotten involved any more than watching this if Snape hadn't said that. But now...she would have some fun.

+CC+

Though Circe may have been safe spending the last few days of the term with her fellow students in their dormitory, the looks the Slytherin gang kept giving her gave her the impression that actively participating in the mistreatment of Snape was not as a smart idea as she'd initially believed.

She did not regret doing what she had, but she had to be smart about what she did afterward. She couldn't forget what her father had said. The danger that she would be in.

Instead, she found an empty classroom and spent the last three nights of the term hiding from Prefects and Filch. That meant she wasn't actually getting proper sleep, but Circe would manage.

She'd just ducked into one of the empty dungeon rooms on the last night of term – having just left Slughorn's final party – when she collided with someone invisible. They both crashed to the ground, letting out quiet cries of shock. The person pulled off their invisibility cloak and revealed themselves to be Black. "Merlin's beard, Carrow, pay attention!"

"You were invisible." She stood up and pulled Black up after her. "Even I couldn't see you."

"Good point." He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"The same could be asked of you, Black. And with an invisibility cloak, no less."

"Just a bit of innocent last-minute exploring before the summer holidays." He raised his eyebrows. "And you?"

"Decided that I'd rather avoid some fights these last few days of the term." She gestured at the room around them. "So I'll be spending my last night here."

Black's eyes widened. "If Circe Carrow is running away..."

Her wand was in her hand and at Black's chin in a second. "Reconsider that, Black."

"But why aren't you just going to fight them?"

"Because I promised my father I would try and not get into any trouble after Dumbledore told him what had been happening."

Black nodded, his expression going dark. "Do you want any company?"

"We're not friends."

"You said I could come to you. That you would understand. The same holds true the other way around. You can come to me if you need to."

She lowered her wand. "I'm touched, Black."

"I'm being serious."

Circe blinked. "You're very different in private, Black."

"Is that a compliment?"

"An observation." She stepped back towards the door. "You don't need to stay tonight. I can handle myself."

"Do you want to ride the train back with us tomorrow?" She paused, frowning at Black. "You once said that you spend the majority of the time trying to find a compartment where people are too scared to actually tell you to leave."

"I didn't realize you actually listened to me."

"Of course I do. The offer still stands."

"I'm touched, Black." She gave him a wave and left.

What ended up annoying her immensely was the fact that it turned out she actually needed to take them up on their offer. Normally, even if it was a bit hard, she could find some compartment to sit in. But it seemed the Slytherins had spread throughout the train. And that the Gryffindors everywhere else were not pleased to see her, regardless of her apparent truce with the infamous Gryffindor quartet.

She did not like it, but she still knocked on their compartment, making all four boys straighten and stare at her. It was Black who actually stood and opened the door. "Carrow, fancy seeing you here."

"Is that seat still open?"

Black grinned. "Of course, Carrow. Welcome," he stepped back and gestured to the rest of the boys, "to our humble abode on the road."

"When Sirius told us he'd offered, I didn't actually think you would come," Potter said.

"I didn't either." She sat down next to Lupin. "But I have to admit, I was curious what you all got up to in private."

"It is incredibly boring." Black sat down across from her. "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."

"So long as I'm not being glared at by the majority of the school, I'm fin..." she was cut off by a knock. The entire compartment turned again to find a Slytherin Prefect and Slug Club member that Circe sadly recognized. She may not have known about her relation to the Blacks or other Purebloods, but her father had shared the identities of her immediate cousins and their parents.

She'd heard about Raine Flint. Circe stood and opened the door a crack. "Can I help you?"

Raine did not seem happy to be there. "May I talk to you in private?"

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here, Flint, or you can leave?" Black said, earning a sneer from Raine.

"Fine." Raine rolled her shoulders. "My mother sent a letter this morning asking me to tell you to tell your father that he should stop avoiding her letters."

"If my father is avoiding her letters, then he has a reason for it. I won't tell him anything."

"We have your best interests in mind."

Circe almost laughed. "I'll believe that when you finally have a hold over the rest of the Slytherins."

Raine bristled. "Those brutes are not my responsibility."

"Aren't they, Prefect?" she glanced down at the badge Raine still wore proudly. "If your mother wants to talk to my father, then she should reconsider supporting the Death Eaters." Circe closed the compartment and turned back to face the Gryffindors.

Black was glaring at where he could still see Raine through the glass. "I hate her."

"Join the club." Circe fell back into her seat. "She's never actually done that before. The rest of the Carrows know that my father wants nothing to do with them, especially now."

Pettigrew shrugged. "Times are changing."

"Not enough for me to actually believe Raine Flint or her mother are actually concerned about my father and me."

+CC+

Annoyingly, Circe had to wait an entire month before she could actually see Luke. His school term ended before hers, but his family always went on a trip for the month after, so she was stuck at home. Circe was not quite so antagonistic with the Muggles she'd grown up around, but there seemed to be a natural quality about her that deterred anyone from actually getting too close.

Anyone, that is, except Luke and the Gryffindor quartet.

She did have some things to entertain herself for that month. Elpis turned nine – making it even clearer that she had no magic – and the entire family went on a short trip up to visit their mother's family. Circe did not tell her father what Raine had said, though she did notice more owls than usual delivering letters her father left unopened.

It was late one night, Circe just deciding that she had nothing better to do than go to sleep when rocks hit her window. She slid it open and leaned on the sill, grinning down at Luke, standing in her front garden. "What are you doing?"

"Told you that we could go for a drive once I was all done, didn't I?" Luke gestured back at the rode, where his car was indeed running for once. "Just filled it with gas."

"It's the middle of the night."

Luke's grin just widened. "And since when has that ever stopped you?"

"My mother would kill you."

"Don't pretend you actually care about that."

"Wait there." She'd figured out how to sneak out of her house years ago. In the beginning, she'd had to use magic to do it, but by now she didn't need to bother. "Are you sure it actually works?" she asked Luke once she stepped outside. "Because if it doesn't work, I'm not getting in there."

"It's fine." He opened the door for her. "Trust me, Ce."

"Fine then." She waited for him to join her. "Where are we actually going to go?"

"Wherever you'd like." Luke started the car. "Though I will have to obey all traffic laws because I'm technically not supposed to be driving yet."

"Just ruin all the fun, why don't you?" She leaned back. "Just drive."

Luke glanced over at her. "How's the war going?"

"Terrible." She paused. "Do you actually believe there's a war going on? Even when you've seen none of it?"

"Of course. Even I can feel it in the air." He tightened his grip on the wheel. "Someone the year above went missing. We were on the football team together. Everyone says the family just moved away, but I know...I think they killed him."

Circe nodded. "There was a report of Muggle deaths in the area. The Ministry was able to capture one of the people responsible, but everyone else got away." She looked out the front window. "When I'm an Auror, I won't let anyone get away. I'll send every last one of them to Azkaban."

"And then you'll win?"

Her gaze hardened. "I'll kill You-Know-Who myself." She looked at him again. "Let's talk about something else. Anything else. I don't want you to have to think about this."

"I'm your friend, Ce. I can't help but talk about it." He laughed. "But if it'll make you feel better, I'll tell you about the stupid things my cousins did."

"Yes please."

They drove around their town for another hour, but they eventually stopped outside a play park and sat on the hood of the car, looking up at the stars. It was the one time Circe's five years of Astronomy actually came in handy.

"About right there," she pointed, "if we had proper telescopes, we might be able to see Saturn."

"And this is magical in some way?" Luke laughed, earning him a shove. "What, it's an honest question. Does the placement of Mars affect how a spell works?"

"Yes, it's the one thing that's keeping me from hexing you." She lay down again. "I won't have to take it anymore, thankfully. The next two years, I can just focus on what I need to in order to become an Auror."

"I'm proud of you, you know." She turned her head to watch him. "You've always known exactly what you want to do, and now you're doing it. It's impressive." He took her hand, squeezing it. "And you're doing it all so that you can fight a war." He drew a breath. It shook more than normal. "Circe, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Luke."

"If I kissed you, would you hex me?"

Circe rolled so that she straddled him, hands on either side of his head. "Took you long enough." She bent down and kissed him. She'd kissed people before, other Muggle boys at various dance clubs Luke would bring her too. But while she'd wanted to kiss Luke for at least the past year – he'd had a final growth spurt and finally grew into his arms – she hadn't wanted to ruin their friendship by asking.

But once he'd offered, she was not afraid to fully fulfill every dream she'd ever had about Luke.

It was not quite as good as she'd imagined, but she could work with it.

+CC+

Circe was more shocked to actually receive a casual owl than she was at the fact she'd only gotten an E on her Transfiguration OWL. She was eating her breakfast, sharing the Prophet with her father when another owl swooped through the still open window and landed on the edge of Circe's bowl of porridge.

"Oi!" she said, swatting at the bird. It just ruffled its feathers and held out a leg. She pulled off the letter there as her father fed the bird a small bit of his toast, but the bird didn't immediately leave.

The letter was from Black and Potter asking if she was interested in seeing them over the holidays because apparently '_there's something we need to talk about that can't be written in a letter_'. They asked if she would send back her address – if her house was connected to the Floo Network – or some common place they could meet.

She looked up at her father, who'd started stroking the bird. "Black and Potter want to visit."

"Potter?"

"Another Gryffindor. Friend of Black's. Can I give them the address?"

Her father thought for a moment. "Fine. Tell them this Saturday. The rest of us can be out of the house then."

"Thank you, Dad." Circe wrote a quick response to the boys and attached it to the owl. The bird immediately flew off.

"Why are they coming?"

"I don't know." She frowned at their initial letter. "But they're actually being serious, so it is something important."

"Be careful."

She smiled at him. "They're Gryffindors. How dangerous can they actually be?"

On the Saturday in question, Circe waited by their Floo Network fireplace with an old NEWT Defense textbook of her father's that he'd found when looking for an old letter. She hadn't given them a specific time, just said generally that afternoon.

At the whoosh of Floo, she looked up in time to see Potter stumble out of the fireplace, Black appearing a second later. They both looked quite relieved to see her. "Did you end up in the wrong house first?"

Potter pointed at her. "You need to work on your handwriting."

"Same to you." She put down the book. "Now, what was so important that you couldn't write it in a letter?"

Black frowned. "You're a terrible host, Carrow."

She stood. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Ancient and Noble House of Black. We never learned how to host fancy Wizards like yourselves down here among the Muggles." She crossed her arms. "If this is a purely social visit, then you should have specified because I would have never let you come."

The boys exchanged a look. "Dumbledore didn't send you a letter?"

Circe's entire body went cold. "What?"

"You did get an O in Defense, right?"

"Be careful, Black, I almost hexed you for that." She gripped the chair beside her. "Why did Dumbledore write to you?"

"Maybe we sh..."

"Don't you dare try and back out now."

Potter swallowed. "You know about the Order?"

"Of course. They're the only ones actually doing something in this war."

"Dumbledore's the founder."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

The boys nodded. "He wrote to us saying that he was impressed with our OWLs. And he didn't say it specifically, but he heavily implied that our NEWT results would indicate if we could potentially join the Order."

"But he didn't write to me." Circe had never hated Dumbledore more than she did at that moment.

"Maybe the letter was lost in the post."

"Or maybe I'm a Slytherin and the fact I keep getting hexed by all the people who will run to You-Know-Who the moment they graduate isn't enough to prove that I'm on your side." She took a deep breath. "Congrats."

Black shook his head. "He's an idiot if he doesn't write to you. I'd be terrified to face you down."

That made her smile, which seemed to be the point. "Keep being friendly, Black, and you'll never have to." She rolled her shoulders. "If you have the time, I can show you around a Muggle home. I'd suspect you haven't been around one much." They both grinned at that.

It was actually surprisingly enjoyable to spend time outside of Hogwarts with Black and Potter. Apparently, Lupin and Pettigrew weren't there because Lupin was sick and Pettigrew's mother was very particular about when he visited friends. The only reason they ended up leaving was that Circe's mother came home with Elpis and Circe literally threw them into the fireplace to keep her mother from finding out they were visiting.

As Black vanished in the green flames, he called out that "you can ride the train with us again!"

**A/N: I mean, a positive that Circe got a kiss, but a decided negative because of what Dumbledore did. Wonder why he didn't offer our shunned Slytherin anything...**


End file.
